


Shards of a Life Forgotten

by night_writing



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Simulation AU, Slow Burn, mental breakdowns, pregame personalities, theres gonna be oumasai in the later chapters i swear, well angst for them backstories amirite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/night_writing/pseuds/night_writing
Summary: (Previously titled "Their Lies among the Truth")"Congrats, Saihara Shuuichi, you have won the 53rd killing game of Dangan Ronpa, the first killing game held in a simulation!"It wasn't... real?Was it all.. a lie?_____An account of their struggles as they cope with their reality, false memories, and new identities, along with everything else.





	Shards of a Life Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO FIRST FIC ON AO3 LETS GO!
> 
> haha, excitement out of the way, this is a simulation au! mostly everyone’s got their pregame personalities and their ingame personalities mixed all together, so a couple characters may act differently. chapter povs will switch every other chapter between ouma and saihara.
> 
> enjoy reading!

* * *

There's the repulsive smell of hospitals as he finds himself staring at the sky. A high-pitched noise buzzes incessantly in his ears, adding to the already uncomfortable situation. Somewhere he hears someone call out his name, but...what was his name again? A splitting headache accompanies his confusion, scattering any lingering thoughts to pieces. He's trying to formulate something, anything, but the headache isn't really helping.

For a second, the sky shifts into a million blue pixels, but that's probably just his eyes playing tricks on him. Yumeno and Harukawa pop into his mind in midst of the headache, and he wonders what happened to—wait, who were those two again? He's struggling at something so basic and simple, and, oh god, he wants to puke so badly that it's killing him and—

Killing, as in a killing game?...

His stomach fills with dread as their sickening corpses flash in his mind, too quick for him to recognize anyone in particular. Somewhere he hears distant screaming and he thinks that it's him, but it sounds so foreign... The nausea kicks up a notch and he feels so deliriously sick. He wants to pass out, he feels like passing out, but he doesn't. He's trapped in this horrible torture. Briefly, he wonders if this was what it felt like to be executed, what it felt like to be hung or tortured or melted alive or—

He wakes up.

He's met with a deafening symphony of voices too distorted to make out anything in particular. Hesitantly, he opens his eyes to a crowd of blurred, white-clad figures towering over him, their white sleeves grabbing onto his body. The headache returns even stronger this time as panic starts to set in, and he struggles against their hold, lunging and clawing blindly.

He tries yelling for them to let go, but his throat just feels so raw and painful as the words die into a harsh whisper. He doesn't understand why his voice doesn't work. He's been doing nothing but talking for weeks, talking about the victims, about blackened among them, about their alibis, about how it can't be him. Voices laced with cold, professional sympathy whisper soothing words, but they all sound so... rehearsed. He feels like he's being handled like some fragile doll, and a horrible feeling settles in his stomach.

"Please, Saihara-san, calm down! It's for your own safety!" one of them pleads, and he wonders why he can hear that so distinctly. He pauses nonetheless, and that's when he realizes how tired he feels. Panic-fueled adrenaline can only last so long; the last remaining embers burn out as his arms fall limply to his sides. He grimaces as he tries to clench his fists, trying to dig his fingers into his palms for any reaction or feeling, but there is none. Just numbness.

In the pods around him, Yumeno and Harukawa are struggling against the crowd of doctors and nurses. making him even more suspicious. He forces out a choked 'why', but he wishes he didn't say anything. It stops him dead in his tracks and he feels dizzily nauseous all over again.

"Congrats, Saihara Shuuichi, you have won the 53rd killing game of Dangan Ronpa, the first killing game held in a simulation."

It...wasn't real?

Was it all...a lie? All those memories, those sickening corpses... How could it just be a lie? A cruel, unforgiving lie? How could his entire exsistence be... the biggest lie of them all...

The darkness whispers softly to him, and he wonders why he feels so empty.

 

* * *

 

Saihara doesn't answer when they ask him if he's alright. He wonders how he's even supposed to answer that; how was he supposed to be alright when they just confirmed that everything, all of it, wasn't real? That would mean accepting that she was— He can't process it clearly, and he doesn't think he wants to either. He feels sick, just like he did when he first woke up.

Wouldn't that would mean that all those sick executions and despairing body announcements and sickening class trials were fake too? All that pain and torture after every class wasn't real? He had already grieved their deaths, already accepted to carry the burdens of sentencing these people –his friends– to their own horrible deaths just to save his own worthless skin, already resolved himself to live on for their sakes, but...

But what? He doesn't know the answer to that.

Idly, he just wants to run away from everything, to take a break from all of this, but Momota wouldn't like that, would he? Well, at least kind, strong Momota he knew. Those words, that morbid excitement in his eyes to kill everyone for money, rings distinctly in his mind and he shakes his head so much that it hurts. It doesn't remove the cold numbness he feels.

A heavy weight settles over his chest, and he wants to cry or scream or just say something, anything, to shake that horrible feeling off, but he can't. His pitiful, weak voice doesn't even work properly.

The soft beep of the heart monitor silently mock him as he drowns in his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Several days pass by in a forgetful blur as he lays helplessly in his hospital bed, plugged up to god-knows-how-many machines. Doctors and nurses flit in and out during the endless hours, sometimes asking him the questions about his health and how he's feeling. (He knows he isn't and doesn't feel fine, but he answers that anyways.) Talking results in violently coughing, so they handed him a tablet to use as an "alternative". That would mean that Kiibo could visit him since the robot has access to all the electronics in the hospital, but he doesn't want to see anyone yet. (He doesn't think he can handle it right now, anyways.)

His fingers drum impatiently as he tries his hardest to focus on the text, but it's not really working. With a sigh, he marks his place in the book and puts it off to the side. He curses the human's social nature and stares dully at his door, the nagging feeling eating away at his chest. He thinks back to the last nurse's visit, the one who dropped by to give him lunch a couple hours ago. He's already wishing that they, a complete stranger, would come back, but at the same time, he wants to be left alone. It's his fault he's pushing others away, though, so why is he being so hypocritical?

Restlessness twitches throughout his body as a thought flickers in his mind, and he glances at his tablet. Kiibo?... The feeling grows colder and impulsively he opens the app of Kiibo's face, entering in a simple hello. The robot's (or is it AI?) head pops on screen not even a second later.

"Hello, Saihara-kun!" Kiibo chirps, a bit too loud and cheerful for Saihara's comfort. Nevermind, he's regretting this already. "It's really good to see you again. How are you?"

 _"i'm good. its nice to see you too"_ (That's a lie; he's a horrible wreck.)

"I've missed you, all of you guys, very much. I've talked with Harukawa-san and Yumeno-san a couple times, but I couldn't properly see you since you didn't want any visitors. Oh, I'm really excited to see everyone awake again!" Kiibo spins happily inside the screen. "I've been watching their vitals signs closely, and they've been doing better as of late! Ouma-san and a couple others are exceptions, but even they're doing better than when it ended! The doctors and I have estimated that everyone should wake up within a month."

 _'oh'_ He stares blankly at the screen. To see their faces alive and in the flesh again... The shining hero and the kind pianist...

"Saihara-kun, are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

He blinks. A few hastily typed letters.

 _"yeah, i'm fine, don't worry'_ He changes the subject. _"how's Yumeno-san and Harukawa-san doing_?" Kiibo's eyes stare at him for a moment, and he prays that the AI would let him go when Kiibo speaks up again. A mental sigh.

"They're both doing well! Yumeno-san started her physical therapy lessons recently, and Harukawa-san is slightly further ahead in her progress. " His fellow survivors are so far ahead of him that he almost chuckles at his pathetic state. Both are already miles ahead of him and he's just here, laying in this hospital bed doing nothing but waiting, and waiting for what? For someone to tell him to live, to recover for the others' sakes, for the ones who died? He hasn't even talked or tried to ever since he woke up; he can't anymore. He grits his teeth together, and he wonders if he shouldn't have asked in the first place.

"...Are you sure you are really alright? Your heart rate is speeding up a bit."

_"yeah, im fine"_

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes he wonders what he was like before the game, though he usually stops himself before he does something he regrets. He's a bit scared to know, if he were honest. Watching that look of morbid fascination on his face on the tape was downright horrifying. Unfortunately, curiosity would always be the death of a detective (even a fake one), and he eventually finds himself staring at a list of results for his name. "SAIHARA SHUUICHI DEATH REACTION COMPILATION" videos are the first to pop up, and he close the tab so fast that his fingers ache. Shakily, he steels his resolve asks Kiibo to filter only the things that happened before the killing game, and the AI agrees.

Now the first thing that pops up are newspapers congratulating the new cast of the latest season of Dangan Ronpa, of how lucky they were to be picked. He attempts to laugh at that, but it turns into a heaving cough. Kiibo whirrs sympathetically, and Saihara continues scrolling.

A profile picture of his face catches his eye, and it's attached to a blog with the username 'shslfan'. Curious, he clicks on the link and is swarmed with dozens of videos of theories from past killing games and reaction videos. He's reeling slightly as he avertsverts his eyes and quickly changes the filter to the most recent. A video pops up, captioned "An Update on Life". It's not even six months old, and he almost wants to laugh at the pathetically short time span. Hesitantly, he clicks on it, and a slightly grainy image of himself in a bedroom appears on screen.

"Hello, everyone! It's SHSL fan here with an update," the Saihara in the video chirps, and he winces at the too cheery tone. "As you guys probably know, I've recently auditioned for the next season of Dangan Ronpa! Isn't that super exciting?" He watches as the past him smiles in genuine glee, and he grimaces. How could anyone be excited to volunteer in a killing game?

"Of course, I won't be able to make any theories or reaction videos or the next season because obviously I'll be there. That's actually pretty despair-inducing! But you won't know until you see the roster when the first episode airs, yeah?" The past Saihara's expression changes from sad to excited in a split second as he continues rambling about other things. Saihara scrolls through the comments, and most are just some congratulating him or being skeptical and jealous of his audition.

Further down are comments that were made after the season started airing.

'man, really thought he was amami's killer'

'woooow, surprised he hasn't killed anyone or got killed yet'

'too bad he wasn't killed instead of iruma, she was way cooler than him'

'he's a really good actor,,, hard to believe that its the same guy'

He doesn't realize how badly he's shaking until Kiibo switches the tab to a video of playful lab puppies.

 

* * *

 

 

Harukawa stops by a few days later.

"Can I come in?" she asks as she peers from the doorway. He almost tells her no, that he really doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but he can't actually do it. The cold emptiness he feels sinks deeper into his stomach and he caves in, too tired to resist. chills his body won't let him have it. Saihara motions to the couch nearest his bed. She's wobbling slightly as she walks across the room, taking steady, careful steps. Jealousy sparks briefly before he shoves it down without a second thought. He's regretting this already, but hopefully his smile is convincing when she looks up at him.

(He's not even trying, so why would be he jealous?)

"Kiibo's been rambling nonstop about you doing better..." she trails off and glances to the side. He notices the slight scratchiness in her voice (curse his inherent keenness) as irritation pricks at his heart, and he swallows hard. Hurriedly, he picks up a pen and notebook and scribbles something in it. It's a bit messy, but hopefully Harukawa doesn't pick up on it.

 _"it's good to see you again. how have you been?"_ it reads. Harukawa leans over from her seat, and her gaze lingering for a pause too long before she leans back.

"Okay. They're letting me walk around without those damn nurses hovering over me every second, so that's good." A faint dry smile makes it way onto Harukawa's face as she speaks. "Everyone's alive, even Momota...." Something flickers in her eyes before she turns her attention back to him. "What about you? You've been holed up in your room since it ended."

Saihara flinches slightly before wheezing out a cough. _"don't know. It's hard to believe that everyone is alive, so I've been trying to process it lately..."_ A certain blonde's smiling face appears in his mind. _"I can finally thank her now—"_ His hand stills when her audition tape flashes in his mind, along with those words that would've never came out of the positive and bright pianist he (admired) knew. Like a chain reaction, Momota's and his video plays in his mind, and he doesn't realize that he's shaking until a hand places itself over his. Startled, he looks up to find that it's Harukawa, who gazes at him with a rare soft expression.

He blinks and offers a small smile of thanks, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Harukawa moves her hand away when he opens his eyes, and he picks up his pencil and scratches out what he wrote. "thanks, Harukawa-san. something came up to mind and well..."

"You're welcome," she says curtly, and they move onto another topic. They continue talking about other things, and he gets a sense of nostalgia like they did during the aftermath of the fifth trial.

The cold feeling has dimmed somewhat as he watches her slip out his door, and he makes a note to ask the next nurse for some speech therapy sessions.

 

* * *

 

 

Surprisingly, he's been able to recover to the point that it doesn't hurt to talk for long periods of time, even if he feels a bit stupid repeating the alphabet three times every day. At least he doesn't have to write down everything like before. Although, since he was apparently deemed 'healthy' enough to attend the small thirty-minute therapy sessions with Harukawa and Yumeno, he mildly wishes he'd just stay in his room instead. In his head, Akamatsu chides that he needed to be more social as Momota yells at him to man up, and they both smile brightly at him. He almost chuckles. If only they could wake up soon....

"Would you want your real memories back?" The physiologists asks, startling him from his thoughts. Hastily, he blinks away his daze and finds himself back in the real world, surrounded by the two other survivors in yet another therapy session. What were they talking about again? Yumeno shifts nervously in her chair beside him, eyes glancing at everything in the room besides the physiologist. Harukawa has this blank expression, but her hands are mildly fidgeting at her hair. He thinks back, and remembers. Their real memories...

Sure, getting back them is possible by either remembering them piece by piece or forcefully triggering them via an operation, but he doesn't know if he should trust the doctors. Well, at least he has the option, unlike the ones who died. They remember both the real and the lies implanted by Team Dangan Ronpa, regardless if they wanted them or not.

The physiologist taps her pen on her clipboard as she looks over them with expectant eyes. There's something unsettling about her gaze when she looks at him, like she's scrutinizing him for everything he's done. He looks away and instead focuses on the solitary potted plant in the corner. It doesn't rid the nagging feeling that she's just staring at him, watching him, and a cold, sickly feeling appears in his stomach.

It's not rational, he thinks. Just one quick glance to prove that he's just overthinking, that they're not staring at him with those shaming eyes, but he doesn't move. He feels like gagging as the sickly feeling intensifies. He's at the tipping point when Yumeno saves him, and the burning feeling fades away quickly.

"I... I don't want mine back. I'm happy with what I know now and, well, everyone seemed... meaner in the tapes? With how Akamatsu and Momota acted anyways..." Yumeno trails off, and she looks at Saihara with wide eyes. "O-oh, no offense, Saihara!"

"None taken." His mind flashes to his excited, twisted smile, that crazy, obsessed look in his own eyes, and he's absolutely certain he doesn't want to be like that ever again, even if all he knows is a lie.

"How about anyone else?" she asks after jotting down a few notes on her clipboard. A few moments pass before she writes more notes, about to move onto another question—

"I do." It's Harukawa who speaks up in a quiet voice.

Saihara stares at her with wide eyes, as does Yumeno; both say nothing. The physiologist scribbles more words down. "I've got a terrible personality as it is, so what do I have to lose? A normal, peaceful life is probably better than the one I remember." Harukawa chews on the inside of her cheek in thought. "I know I could improve my personality more than anyone." Silence follows, and he can't find it in himself to speak up.

"But Harukawa, you're nice the way you are!" Yumeno argues, but her waving voice defies her. Harukawa frowns.

"Well, that's one of us."

 

* * *

 

It's Yonaga who wakes up first while everyone is asleep. He can't help the pang of disappointment when he hears the news, no matter how much he tries to deny it. It could've been someone else who died earlier on (like Akamatsu) or someone who didn't die with too many injuries (like Momota). He shakes his head and instead stares intensely at the food on the table beside him. Grimacing, he pushes the table away, watching as it rolls across the floor and takes his food with it. He never really had a proper breakfast before, so why start now? Oh wait, that's only what he remembers. He might've loved breakfast for all he knew. A bitter grimace.

"Kiibo-kun, Angie-san remembers everything, doesn't she? The things from before the killing game..."

"...Yes, she does."

"Do...do you think she knows me? The me from before..."

A pause.

"She might. You could go ask her in a couple days when she's recovered enough."

Saihara decides to do just that.

 

* * *

 

It feels strange seeing the preppy and carefree Angie Yonaga in a dark and dreary room. Most of the lights are either dimmed to the lowest setting or turned off completely, save for the bright hallway lights. The girl flinches slightly when he enters her room, and he blurts out some apologies before closing the door. When his eyes grow accustomed to the dimness, he notices the dark circles under her dull eyes and an somber expression on the normally cheery SHSL Artist. He chalks it up to being in the simulation for a long time and ignores the weird feeling in his stomach.

"Hey, Shuuichi-kun. It's nice to see you." Something sounds off when she speaks; too polite. She...didn't use honorifics before, did she?

"I-It's nice to see you too." He curses at his stuttering as he pulls up a stool to sit next to her bed. "How are you feeling?..."

"Angie has been feeling, well, strange, " she says honestly, looking off to the side. "Angie was very confused when she woke up, and when she heard that it was a simulation, she didn't know she died! Though, she feels a bit weird knowing that her island home doesn't exist and that Angie isn't Atua's—" she pauses briefly as a flash of something (Anger? Regret?) appears in her eyes. "— that she's doesn't have the same family, friends, or community she remembers." She has a wistful expression when she looks up at Saihara, and he can't help feel the need to comfort her.

"But Angie-san, we're your friends, aren't we? What about Yumeno-san?" Saihara interjects, and a bittersweet smile ghosts the edges of her mouth.

"That's a bit comforting, Shuuichi-kun. Angie likes to think that she is friends with Himiko-san, but she doesn't like the way she treated Himiko-san during the game, how she tricked Himiko-san into following a god..." She takes a deep breath, and Saihara feels the air become heavy. " She...she didn't like religion before, did you know that? Angie hated how manipulative and sugar-coating religion was, so she tried to stay away from it. Doesn't that sound very cruel to you, Shuuichi-kun? Angie ended up being the manipulative cult person she disliked so much! But-! Even yet, Angie still believes and loves and yet hates Atua, and she's so confused and she doesn't know what to do and—" She's shaking violently now, sobbing angry, broken tears as her heart rate begins to rocket. In a blur, he's quietly ushered away as nurses clamber inside the room of a broken girl.

* * *

 

 

Yonaga has a strict 'no visitors allowed' policy put up when Yumeno tries to visit her a few days later. Having heard the news, she sulks near the door and pesters Saihara to explain what happened, but he doesn't, Virginia only repeating the excuse that she's recovering. It's partially true, anyways.

He regrets wishing someone else had woken up besides her.

 

* * *

 

 

Tojo wakes up next, and Gokuhara follows suit a few days later. Saihara can't find it in himself to visit them, not after what happened with Angie. Instead he hangs out with Harukawa and Yumeno in the lobby, watching the TV or playing card games with the decks the nurses left behind. Yonaga's room is on the hallway right before the lobby, so he takes a longer route to reach the lobby every morning. Several mundane days of half-hearted games pass until they arrive in the lobby a week later.

Gokuhara waves a small hello when he enters the room, his hair pulled neatly into a man bun. He moves aside to reveal Tojo behind him, and they both ask to join the next round, to which Yumeno agrees excitedly. Saihara smiles when he looks at their much alive faces again, and he almost deludes himself into thinking that everything could be like it was before the killings started. However, the memories of their lives before the game changes the people he thought he knew, even in little ways.

Saihara watches in surprise as Gokuhara swears under his breath when he somehow gains ten more cards, something the SHSL Entomologist wouldn't ever do before. A prick of disappointment stings Saihara, but he should've expected that things wouldn't be as he'd hoped. Tojo merely watches Gokuhara's frustration with a small laugh, triumphantly placing her card down as she wins another round. She has, fortunately, not changed as much, and the familiarity is a small comfort to Saihara.

She remains as elegant and kind as she was during the killings, even if she's more expressive than he remembers. Something did seem off, though, when he saw the former maid struggling to carry five cups full of steaming tea from the kitchen. Tojo apologized profusely as Saihara took two cups from her cramped hands, but she looked almost annoyed when he looked back to check her. He shrugged it off when she smiled back at him, but his intuition nagged at him otherwise.

"Has anyone woken up besides us?" Tojo asks one day during another game round. Saihara flinches slightly at the thought of Yonaga and looks to Yumeno, whose hold on her card tightens ever so slightly. Gokuhara raises his head from his cards and looks quizzically to the former maid.

"Gonta has wondered that too..."

A pause. Tojo looks to Saihara and Yumeno, immediately becoming suspicious. The cards weigh heavily in his clammy hands as she continues to silently stare at them. A familiar cold, sickly feeling claws its way into his stomach, and he grimaces at the unpleasantness. It's burning again.

"Yonaga woke up a few days before you, but she hasn't left her room." Harukawa doesn't skip a beat when she answers and puts down another card. "It's your turn, Saihara."

Startled, he blinks in surprise and glances to Harukawa, who continues to stare at her cards. Saihara whispers a wordless thanks and he looks back to his cards. Tojo hums a small sound of disappointment as the turn is passed to Yumeno. "Oh, I see. But why did she lock herself in her room? Surely she has had plenty of time to rest?"

"Yonaga doesn't allow visitors yet. I don't think she want to see us..." Yumeno says, deflating for a moment before perking back up again. "But she'll come back, I know it!" Tojo looks pensive at Yumeno's answer, but she doesn't say a word about it after that.

 

* * *

 

Hoshi wakes up next, and he soon joins the group to make a total of six. He and Tojo are on surprisingly normal terms since they come in everyday. They don't interact much besides during the game rounds, but there always seemed to be a small but distinct feeling of something left unsaid whenever one left the room.

That disappeared, though, after Hoshi offered to accompany Tojo to the kitchen to get the hot drinks for a tea break. Startled, Tojo agreed and they both headed to the kitchen, not reappearing until much later with drinks on hand. Hoshi and Tojo didn't seem too different after that, but the odd feeling has been gone ever since.

The candy stick in Hoshi's mouth swings from side to side when he beats Tojo again, who sighs in defeat. She offers to shuffle the deck as Saihara congratulates the former tennis player, who smiles and chuckles to himself. That's probably the first time he's ever seen Hoshi look genuinely happy, now that he thinks about it. It's a little strange, but it suits him. He supposes it's one good thing that's come from their real memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter povs were gonna switch every chapter, but I accidentally made chapter 1 too long and ouma isn’t awake yet... so you’ll get to see more of saihara next chapter!


End file.
